crystalline maze. 'I still think so.'
An error Dumarest didn't share. The congealed mass provided almost perfect cover but the very forces which had created it could convert it into molten slag with equal ease.
'We could try the far side,' suggested Vardoon. 'Break a path and make a quick search.'
'No.'
'Why not, Earl? Now that we're here let's check it out.'
'It's getting late.' Dumarest glanced at the sun, the long shadows at their feet. 'We need to find cover.'
Another cave in which to crouch while fury raged about them. To sit locked in the stifling confines of the suits, standing guard, watching and waiting for what might come. To eat and restrain a growing thirst. To maintain hope that tomorrow they would find the golden pearls.
Hope which was measured by the amount of food they carried, the water, the tanked air.
'Give it another hour,' urged Vardoon. 'I've a feeling about this place. We could hit lucky at any moment but if we leave now and the storm rips up the area it'll be hopeless. Let's just give it a last try.'
Gambler's talk and Dumarest knew how it would end. The last try would lead to another, a chance taken once too often and there would be no others to follow.
He said, 'I'm leaving. If you want to stay that's your business.'
'Earl!'
Dumarest walked on, ignoring the shout, the muted thud of feet running behind. The raft lay in the shadow on a level place under an overhanging ledge. Repairing it had taken half a day and now it was sluggish, unreliable, which was the reason they had to camp in the hills instead of well away from the area of storms. Even as it was, the working period was far too short a part of the sunlit day.
A gamble; the odds set by physical limitations and natural forces. They had to win quickly or not at all and it seemed luck was against them. Dumarest halted, rearing back to stare at the higher slope of the hill rising above the raft, eyes searching the fissures and crannies, the splotched darkness of caves, the fretted traceries of lightning impact areas. Bolts which had seared and fused and blasted-but in a seemingly random distribution. Yet was it wholly random? Did the naked fury of released energies follow some elaborate pattern?
'What's on your mind, Earl?' Vardoon was at his side, breathing deeply, voice edged with frustrated anger. 'Looking for a place to camp?' He added, after a moment, 'All those caves look too small.'
Blotches revealing the mouths of vents, craters gouged in harder stone, narrow pipes now void of the ores and silicates, the veins and seams of material which had attracted the fury of electronic energy. Again Dumarest studied the area, seeing the shift of somber colors, the tints and hues born of chemical combinations. A patch which seemed to be something else.
'Earl!' Vardoon had seen it also. His fingers clamped hard on Dumarest's arm. 'By, God, Earl! A vrek!'
It moved again, a subtle shift which revealed lambent flashes, hues, sparkles, lifting to take form, to rise and hang for a moment suspended in the air. A thing which looked like an angel.
An angel of death.
There was beauty in it, in line and function, in the wings which made a blur, the slender body tipped with huge, glinting eyes; bulbous mosaics which reflected the sun in shimmering glory. The antennae were wands of gilded and tapered flexibility, the mouth parts bearing the sheen of polished steel, the limbs delicate, jointed appendages ended in spatulate pads. The posterior, rounded, carried a slender, sting-like appendage.
'A female!' Vardoon's fingers dug harder. 'A female, Earl-pray God it's voided!'
Eggs vented to be held by natural adhesion to the rock. The golden pearls of ardeel contained within the outer membrane.
Dumarest eased Vardoon's hand from his arm as he studied the creature now fanning the stone with shimmering wings. The vrek was as long as a man was tall; the product of a harsh environment and so that it must have its own means of defense and attack-natural weaponry revealed in tiny scintillations; lambent flashes betraying the electronic energy stored within its body. Miniature lightning which could burn and destroy.
'It's voided!' Vardoon's voice held a gloating satisfaction. 'Earl, there's a fortune waiting for us up there! A fortune.'
One stuck high on a fretted wall of stone, buried in narrow cracks and fissures, firmly held now the adhesive had dried. Eggs needing to be pried from their seating, each taking time. More time needed to climb and settle so as to work. Dumarest glanced again at the sun.
'We've got to try it, Earl.' Vardoon had seen the gesture and guessed its implication. 'At least let's take up the raft and see what's there.'
Perhaps nothing; many life-forms pretended to lay eggs in several places in order to deceive suspected predators. The spot could be an empty decoy.
'No!' Vardoon was emphatic when Dumarest mentioned the possibility. 'Vreks don't act that way.'
'Then how do they act? What about the males? Do they mate in midair on a nuptial flight? Once at the beginning of a season? Several times? Tell me.'
'I don't know.' Vardoon's voice was rigid in its determination, his face hard as he glowered through the faceplate of his helmet., 'What difference does it make? Up there's what we came for and I'm getting it.'
'Tomorrow,' said Dumarest. 'We'll find a place to camp and use the tent. We'll eat well and have a decent rest. When it's safe we'll work all-out to gather what we can.'
'I'm not leaving here, Earl.'
'We have to. There's no cave large enough to take the raft.'
'I'm not leaving here!' Vardoon made an effort to control himself. 'Once we go we need never find it again. Things change at night; landmarks vanish, places alter-you know how it is. A small risk, maybe, but one I'm not taking. One I daren't take. I've worked too hard for this, waited too long. If-' He broke off, panting, shaking his head. 'No, Earl! No!'
Dumarest looked at the man's face, saw the sweat, the wild eyes and recognized the near-hysterical condition he was in. Saw too the tension of the hands clamped on the gun slung from one shoulder, the direction of the muzzle. If he walked away nothing might happen but if he tried to take the raft the result would be certain; to kill Vardoon would be the only way to save his life.
He said quietly, 'Relax, Hart. You win.'
That night again was spent in thunder but this time it seemed less savage than before. Usage, perhaps, or the jagged flashes did not strike so often or so near. Looking at the mouth of the narrow opening Dumarest saw a facing hill crawling with electronic fire, heard the roar, the echoes.
As they faded Vardoon called from the tent, 'Come and get it, Earl!'
He squatted, stripped to shorts in the inflated sac; tubes supporting curtains of plastic to create an enclosed space large enough for them both. One fitted with an air-lock, lights, a pneumatic floor serving as a mattress. A place in which to remove the burden of the suits, to breathe clean, tanked air, to eat and wash and sleep in relative comfort.
'Here!' He handed Dumarest a steaming cup as he took his place. Fans whined to cool the heat induced by the suit, to clear the stink of sweat. 'Yurva.' Vardoon sipped and reached for a bottle. 'A good tisane but better with brandy. Earl?'
Dumarest extended his cup and sat trying to relax. An impossibility in their present condition and he lacked the euphoria which fueled Vardoon's cheerfulness. Faced with an impossible situation, he had compromised and now wondered if he had chosen the worse of both alternatives. If so he was stuck with it as was Vardoon.
The man poured himself more tisane, added more brandy.
'Neat,' he said. 'Your idea, Earl. To unload the raft and make camp up here close to the ardeel. A chance to relax and rest, as you said. What made you change your mind?'
‹›The threat of death and the need of killing. Dumarest said, 'Two things. One was your fear of losing the place and the other an idea I had about the vrek. That female wouldn't have voided her eggs unless she felt they had a chance.' He added, as Vardoon frowned, 'They are native to the hills and to survive at all they must have an instinctive knowledge of storm patterns. Maybe it's the stress fields in the air or something radiated from the rock but I guessed this area would be relatively safe for a while.'
A guess, but one based on observation and certainly no lightning had struck close to the opening of the cave, for they had checked for lurking predators or fissures through which they could travel. Dumarest had kept the raft hovering while Vardoon had unloaded, taking it back under the ledge and grounding it with thick strands of
